Yewo

It feels as though just at the height of my time here I am about to leave.

I am finally able to communicate and take a patient history in Chitumbuka, the language of the Mzimba district in Northern Malawi. I am able to understand the Malawian English of the morning handover without having to strenuously focus all my energy on merely discerning the words spoken. I have come to understand that each clinical decision not only takes into account trying to diagnose the patient but also that every test ordered is one less test for another patient. Every medicine prescribed is one less medicine for the next. Every canula used is one less for the next person. It is almost a utilitarian approach: if it is not absolutely necessary you don’t do it in order to serve the greater good.

I have just learned the complex rules of Bao and can engage in a game with locals. I know where to buy the ripest avocado and the yellowest banana at a fair price. I have gotten used to living in the maize fields. I know how to avoid stepping on snakes or what to do when bitten by one.  I know how to navigate the red dirt roads through the maize around my house. I have even gotten used to holding multiple thousand dollar bills in my hand (see photo).

I feel like a local as I walk along the dirt roads and clasp my hands together to greet passerby’s with “yewo.”